


Vashti

by Rennen



Series: OCs [5]
Category: My own lmao
Genre: Bad Poetry, Big religious themes, But also not poetry, Poetry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-21
Updated: 2020-02-21
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:01:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22828351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rennen/pseuds/Rennen
Summary: An angel appears from a test tube.
Series: OCs [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1638256
Kudos: 1





	1. Again Town

This is a tale of the town that survived.  
It’s a long and old tale,  
passed down from generation to generation.  
The town had a blue sky,  
white flowers.  
The decor something out of Rome.  
The townsfolk were virtuous and welcoming,  
it was a town of beginnings.  
The town folk were very religious,  
but their views  
were all kind and gentle ones.  
There truly was no issues in the town.  
But war occurred.

The war pummeled the town until it was no more.  
Few survived,  
houses were reduced to rubble.  
It was truly tragic,  
that such a glistening town became no more.  
That was what the rest of the world thought.  
The world was wrong.

Human life is stubborn,  
it does not fall so easily.  
The few survivors rebuilt what once was.  
But desperate humans are easily led astray.  
A bad man appeared,  
“I bring the word of God,  
I will restore your town to its former beauty,  
if you only hold my hand.”  
The townspeople held onto him like a lifeboat,  
as they had nothing else.

The man restored the town,  
the townspeople cheered him as a hero,  
a knight in shining armor.  
That man became the leader of the small town turned village.  
But  
the townsfolk were too entrenched now.  
They followed his word  
even if it was wrong.  
This is how the burnings started.  
The first was a child of 12 years old,  
her sibling went next.  
Burned for questioning the man’s word.  
The townsfolk did as they were told despite their thoughts.  
The glistening town was covered in ash,  
the graves were hastily made.

Spirits appeared.  
Ghosts of those from the past.  
Houses were destroyed by supernatural forces,  
townsfolk were chased away.  
An angel appeared to help the townsfolk.  
Her name was Vashti.  
She was at odds with the man,  
but he could do nothing to her due to her status in the town.  
Vashti made the flowers bloom.

Now the town is known as Agon Town,  
sometimes people call it “Again Town,”  
due to it being restored again and again.  
The sins of Agon are in the past,  
not forgotten but amended.  
No one knows where Vashti came from,  
but now she rules Agon.


	2. Asking God

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vashti Ruminates

What would God say if he saw my existence?  
An artificial life,  
would he welcome me?  
What would God say to the people of this town?  
I think I can guess,  
“A soul tainted by ignorance can be cleared.”

White flowers sprouted in the cracks of the sidewalk.  
Smoke wafts from the wooden cross.  
I remember her face.

“They know you’re here,” I told her.  
Righteousness is not always righteous.  
The holiest of men can cause hell.  
She responded back,  
“I know.”

This town exists somewhere between the earth and the heavens.  
These townsfolk are nothing but spirits walking,  
but that doesn’t really matter, in the end.  
This town is grey, when it used to be white,  
but is any place truly white?  
This grey area,  
standing between the gates of heaven and the depths of hell.  
Is it possible to tiptoe this line?  
I have no choice but to believe.


	3. The Story of Owl-Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An old folktale about an owl-boy.

Vashti’s footsteps crunched the grass in time with Russel’s. The sky above was blue, and their robes blew in the breeze. The grass was rustling along with the leaves of the trees, and only the sounds of the animals could be heard. Vashti’s hair was repeatedly falling into her eyes, and Russel couldn’t help but smile in pity. Once they got to Agon Town, they’d be able to buy some hairpins for Vashti. The grassy plains expanded in front of them for seemingly forever, a vibrant green.  
Russel had walked this path before, and he knew that they were coming up to one of his favorite spots. He could see the plants in the distance, standing tall like bamboo, and yet covered in petals. Vashti had seemed to notice their color as well, as she was looking ahead at them in silent curiosity. The purple crosses upon their chests and backs were flowing in the wind.  
Quickly, they came upon the strange bamboo plants. Russel and Vashti came to a stop in front of the group of plants, colored as if someone had thrown paint on them at random. Vashti circled one, looking at it from all angles, in an attempt to understand it. Russel couldn’t help but give a humored smile at her blunt behavior. For the first time in a while, he opened his mouth, “These guys have a story, you know.”  
Vashti looked back at him from her circling of the plants. She simply stared, as if silently expecting him to continue his statement.  
And so, Russel did, “There’s an old folktale about these plants. They’re insanely rare, and have medical properties that makes people want them really bad. No one knows that the ones here exist, because they think we got blown off the map.”  
Vashti stared at him some more, like a cat. He pulled a pseudo deep voice, like the voice of a wise old man, to tell the tale of the Owl-boy.  
There once was a young woman, who had a love for plants. All kinds, of all kinds of smells and rarity. She had a room of her house dedicated to her hobby, and one day she hoped to build a greenhouse of her own, in the backyard. The room was filled with shelves of supplies, and pots of various sizes, to accommodate their plant. The blinds had been pulled back and the room wafted the scents of all the flowers, as they communicated with one another.  
Her newest addition to the plant room was sitting right in the center. By far her rarest, and most intricate plant. It stood tall like bamboo, and yet was covered in petals, color seemingly spotted randomly throughout. The plant was also her most needy, she was doting on it almost constantly throughout the day.  
Despite the plant’s needy nature, she had a life. She wouldn’t be able to constantly care for it all the time. One day, she ended up having to leave.  
When she came back, she expected the plant to be whining a little, like a toddler, but it was the opposite. The plant looked amazing, in the light, casting a thin shadow upon some of the others. The woman blinked at it in surprise, wondering if maybe she had been caring for it too much. She placed her store-bought items onto the floor temporarily and approached the plant, but two steps in she froze.  
There was a tiny barn owl sitting upon the plant. The owl was not hurting the plant in any way, but this wasn’t a barn, and the woman had no idea how the owl had gotten inside. The owl simply sat, its face white and eyes closed. She planned to just swat at it a little, and hope it’d fly out the window, but when she began her approach, the owl’s eyes opened and its face turned to her. The owl stared at her as it fluttered its wings and began to change.  
Before her very eyes, the tiny barn owl morphed into a tiny barn boy.  
She stepped back in shock, eyes wide as the boy finished his transformation and simply looked up at her. She was speechless, this little kid just morphed right before her very eyes. The boy continued to look at her with a simple gaze.  
Despite her hesitance, she knew she couldn’t just leave the kid here. Even if he was apparently a shapeshifter, he was still a kid. She could try taking him to the police station, is what she thought, but when she looked at him she had a feeling it wouldn’t work. She turned her eyes downward, trying to think of something.  
Then, she figured out what to do. She grabbed the boy by the hand and pulled him out of the room, and into her car. The boy sat quietly in the backseat, occasionally swinging his legs back and forth.  
She arrived at her destination, and the smells hit her nose instantly. It was a plant show, where plant breeders and plant enthusiasts would come and see and buy show-worthy plants. It was so nerdy of her, but she really did enjoy it. She opened the car door and stepped out, going to the back to grab the boy and pull him out. Tickets were required to get inside the show, so she intended to buy two of them, for her and the boy.  
She held his hand as they walked up to the doors of the giant and overly fancy building the show was being hosted in. When the two got to the ticket booth, she told the man behind the glass she wanted two tickets, and he gave her a strange look. He peered at her, to her side, and behind her, as if trying to find another person. All the man saw was the woman, and despite his confusion, he gave her two tickets. The pair walked inside the building.  
Immediately, vibrant shades of green greeted them, the sunlight from above shining down through the glass ceiling. The air smelt clean, even if being clean had no smell. She looked down at the boy and smiled, and he looked up at her as well. She held his hand as they walked, rows upon rows of plants and flowers and even trees, for people to gawk at and potentially buy. She didn’t have enough money for any of these, but she still enjoyed seeing them and taking pictures. The boy was quiet and patient as she took dozens of pictures of all the plants that caught her eye, their petals soft and beautiful.  
Despite her joy at the plant show, she did notice people giving her strange looks. When she realized why, her stomach dropped. She had been holding the boy’s hand the entire time, except when taking pictures. It was the same with the man behind the ticket booth.  
They couldn’t see the boy.  
The reason they were giving her strange looks is because it appeared as if she was holding an invisible hand, and talking to someone that wasn’t there.  
Her body tensed.  
She couldn’t stop now; the boy was real and solid. Even if no one could see him, he was real. With that in mind a random thought passed her mind. The boy hadn’t gone to the bathroom this entire time. She looked down at him, and he looked up at her.  
And so, they headed to the bathroom in the show building. She had worried that she might have to help the boy with the toilet, and not being a mother herself, she didn’t exactly know how. It turned out her fears were unfounded; the boy was just fine and capable. She waited for him outside the bathroom door. He appeared shortly afterwards.  
Their trip to the plant show continued from there, she showed him dozens of different plants, and talked about the ones she knew. He listened intently. Eventually, they approached a familiar plant, the bamboo with petals. The boy saw it and looked downwards, as if saddened. The woman learned quickly that he did not want to see the plant, or hear her facts about it. They moved away from that area. While walking across the tiled floor, among the chatter of other show goers, she felt a weight in her hand dissipate. She turned around to the boy, but he was not there. She panicked. She looked around, turned herself in a circle, but the boy was nowhere to be found. He had disappeared, into thin air.  
She felt a heaviness in her chest, after having spent the day with the boy. There was nothing she could do now that he was gone. She had realized it earlier, that he was not a normal human, but that hadn’t stopped her from trying to give him some fun. She headed towards the door of the plant show.  
She got in her car, and drove away.  
She returned home, and the tall plant was still there, in the sunlight. It stood vibrant and proud, but the owl that had sat upon its stem was no more. The boy did not appear again.  
Russel explained, “The kid was a spirit, a dead ghost. A long time ago, there was a craze over these plants, and it turned into something like slavery. Orphaned kids were forced to work to death in breeding these plants, and some of them died before being saved. That’s who that kid was.”  
Vashti seemed somber. Russel continued, “Sometimes, when someone feels they were wronged in life, they don’t pass on. They become a walking spirit. What that kid wanted was a parent, that he never had. The only friends he had while alive were the barn owls that always sat in the barn. The woman in the story gave him what he wanted, parental affection, so he was happy. He passed on. That’s the moral of the story.”  
The grass under their feet rustled in the wind, and the leaves on the trees were just beginning to change color. The sky was a bright blue, with the occasional speck of white. The animals sang their songs to one another. The world continued on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this a few years ago, I read through it again and thought it was fine but I want to talk about one thing. The lady knows who Owl Boy is. She knows he was a slave, shes a plant nerd. So if it seemed weird that she just went along with it, thats why. I dont think I made that very clear in the writing.


End file.
